Robot Dreams

I've been thinking a lot lately about robots. What they can do, what they will be, how we will create them, how they will change us. It starts from an immediate and local problem: figuring out what to do with my life. I've spent a year at Anybots, absorbing robot culture, thinking robot thoughts. Now I have to decide what I'm willing to invest in this crazy idea -- that robots are real, that they want us to make them, and that we will.

The first thing I had to realize is that building robots is not primarily a technical challenge. Sure, it's hard, but it is doable -- of that there is no doubt. Robots of one kind or another already exist, will continue to exist, and will 'evolve', in the sense that they will become more capable, more complex, and more entwined with our lives. The hard part about building robots is deciding what robot to build. On the platonic plane, there exists an infinity of robots, each one perfect in its own way. Choosing the correct perfection to strive for is the challenge, and it is, to quote Beavis and Butthead, "like hard and stuff".

What this means in practice is that robot building is not pure engineering; nor is it simply craft. It is an art. There is at least one great precedent for an art that is at the same time a craft and an engineering discipline: Architecture. It's not the only one, however; more and more, technology, culture, art, and craft are mashed up into a big paste of techno-culture gear. Cars are a lifestyle choice; iPods are a fashion statement. Robots will have feng shui.

Where there's art, there are artists. Who will be the Frank Lloyd Wright, the Karl Benz, the Wozniak & Jobs of robots? There will be big teams of people involved, of course. But, at least at the beginning, I'm pretty sure the important robots will be conceived by auteurs; individuals, or very small groups (ala the Wright Brothers), and they will drive their vision into existence with the kind of single-minded focus and persistence that large organizations can never truly muster.

Another outcome of this view is that you won't see too many typical venture-backed business models. This is going to be a 'hit-driven' business, where the utility of the product is less important than the timing, the trends, the cool factor, the buzz. In some ways that's too bad, because it means that there will be many talented, hard-working folk whose robot dreams will die on the vine. As in similar industries (entertainment, fashion), it will be possible to carve out a career without being the auteur; but for those who want recognition and success, few who are called will be chosen. There will also be the Van Goghs, the ignored geniuses whose importance is only seen later, long after the work is completed, as well as the Picassos who are lauded and feted during their lifetime. There will be the Salieris and one-hit wonders, whose careers burn brightly for a while, but who don't leave a corpus of work important enough to put them in the pantheon of true greats.

I'm not sure what to do with this realization, other than to document it in this, my perfectly unread blog. There are personal implications, such as the distinction between attempting the act of creation myself (writing the song), versus playing second fiddle to another's music (playing in the band). There is no shame in the latter, but if my ambition is to grasp the brass ring, I need to have the opportunity to pursue that path as well. If my own creations don't make the big time, at least I won't be bitter about not having taken the chance to create my own reality.